


Starjack Week 2019

by CatMeisterCoal



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Body insecurity, First Kiss, M/M, Nightmares, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-10-26 17:22:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20745935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatMeisterCoal/pseuds/CatMeisterCoal
Summary: A collection of ficlets for Starjack week that follows the set themes by lumistar.





	1. Day 1 - Favorite AU = Soulmate AU

His lines burned and his frame ached as he tumbled out of the pod, his mind cloudy and heavy from forced stasis as he looks around aimlessly, trying to regain his bearings. Figures crowded around him as he straightened up to find red optics searing into him from a new frame, a new place but with the same voice. Everything about Starscream had been red, almost glowing as his optics focused in on him and a throwaway remark on his new frame was given before he snapped back to reality to fully comprehend what Starscream had said. Ruler of Cybertron. That was new and terrifying and Wheeljack didn’t want himself to think it, to feel it, but that almost seemed right, like he’d filled the space he’d always meant to be in. Gorgeous and red and powerful, and right there so he’s close enough to reach out and touch, to feel and tear away what little distortion of reality there was left dissipates and everything becomes sharp almost too suddenly. Starscream is right there, sinister and more powerful than he has ever been. So close…

Wheeljack jolts up to the blare of an alarm, gasping into the cool morning, sucking in the chilly air into his vents to cool his heated and stressed frame. That dream that was more a memory haunts him from the back of his mind, a lingering thought with the images already beginning to fuzz and blur into each other, their clarity now long gone. The feeling of it all still flutters over his frame in a faint charge and he still can’t decipher what it all means. He couldn’t stop it and didn’t know who to talk to about how the same dream came to him night after night but escaping him so easily all without ever giving him any hint or sign why that memory was so profound, why that was the one his subconscious wanted him to remember. He groans as he rolls off his berth to greet the day, bitter and exhausted even though hi chronometer informs him he got a full recharge which is unusual for him even with the newly garnered peace. It’s been decades now since he was reawakened and Cybertron has been under the imperious but surprisingly just rule of Starscream. He likes to think he had some part of that even if he’s just an engineer, a scientist but he gave Starscream council whenever he asked and was there some late nights to help with paperwork. Those late nights almost always turned into long discussions of right and wrong and of what the future held. The later it got and the more engex that was added to these conversations, the freer they became with Starscream making confessions to him he doesn’t think he’s ever made to anyone else. He’s a lier but not Wheeljack. That’s what he had said and Wheeljack believes him especially after everything, after what they’ve seen. Wheeljack doesn’t like how closely he hoards that piece of Starscream, knowing that he’s the one who’s never been lied to, who’s never been tricked.

Maybe that was it. The strange pride he felt from this connection he has with Starscream that makes him feel… Powerful? Elated? Special? He doesn’t know and he doesn’t want to look too closely at that because feelings like that are dangerous or, at worst, fatal. He shakes his head to clear his mind and sets about getting ready for the day, taking a quick rinse and then gathering his datapads, he’s out the door and rushing for the lab.

It’s a busy day but a quiet one which is normal. It’s all normal. It’s all too normal and quiet and he’s actually bored with his latest project which hasn’t happened in thousands of years. He puts his head on the table in front of him, unmoving for a few good minutes trying to get himself to just get back to work already and escape whatever this funk he was in to go away. Then a harsh beep startles him up to his feet and when he calms down he sees it’s a message from Starscream that just has an address which of course meant he wanted to meet Wheeljack now. While he would normally scold Starscream for calling him on such short notice but right now he didn’t care and was already rushing to the door before he had even started typing out his return message confirming he’d be there in just a few minutes. He rushes down the hall then transforms as soon as he’s out the door, startling the nearby pedestrians as he zooms off down the road, navigating to the address that’s pulled up on his internal map. Once he’s at his destination, he doesn’t even stop to transform back into his root mode, instead landing on his feet from a flying leap in front of the grand building Starscream had called him to.

It turns out to be some kind of temple, to what he’s not sure but it seems to have been newly restored with some evident construction still going on at the far side. So it was old then, old and important. Something uneasy settles in his tanks and he takes to the doors, opening them with relative ease and quietly makes his way into the central chamber with ceilings that loom well above him. Tall, stained-glass windows set into the walls glow almost lazily in the morning sun all depicting different scenes of old stories of the past. He could spot a few of the Primes that he has long forgotten the names of but never forgot their faces and of other grand events like Primus bringing about the first Cybertronians. He looks on them in awe as he silently walks through the pillars that line the walkway that leads to the back where a shrine of crystal and glass sits depicting the light of Primus and forges of Solus. A shiver runs through him, the eerie quiet of the place sinking into his plating, the thick walls having blocked off the ambient noise of the bustling city the entire place stands in a devoted hush.

Double doors open to his left, their creaking hinges startle him and he turns to find Starscream who gestures for him to enter. He moves quickly from the shrine and into the antechamber of the temple to find Windblade as well as The Mistress of Flame waiting there with something large and bulky hidden under a cloth. Wheeljack nods to both The Mistress and Windblade before turning back to Starscream, feeling their optics burn into him expectantly as he silently asks what in the pits Starscream called him here for. Seeming to understand Wheeljack’s distraught look, Starscream simply waves him off with a smirk and approaches the cloaked object. Ever one for the flare of the dramatic, Starscream unveils the object with a flourish and the grace Wheeljack has come to associate with him. What Wheeljack sees makes him pause and tense his brow in confusion and he takes a step closer to get a better look at what appears to be yet another window with another scene elegantly embossed in glass albeit tarnished from time and lack of tending. The scene is of two transformers, plain and obscure in terms of form and mode with their chestplates open to reveal their sparks to one another. At that moment, the realization of what the picture is about hits him and he stands back up, straightening out his form and turns once again to Starscream.

“This is a mark revealing ceremony,” Wheeljack says, hands clenching at his sides and optics flickering every so often to the window. He’s familiar with the soul marks that illuminate from an individual’s spark that is meant to denote another’s destined bonded and because the mark is centered on the spark, even cold constructed broadcast them. Another argument why they deserved equal rights within Cybertronian society. During his early centuries, Wheeljack would sometimes open up when he was by himself to trace the delicate pattern formed by the light of his spark, thinking of the mech out there somewhere destined for just him and he for them whenever he was struck with a wave of loneliness. After he matured some and the less than hopeful statistics of finding your soulmate dropped even further when the war struck he had stopped such a habit.

The Mistress of Flame saunters up next to him, appraising him, “At least he knows what it is and so I hope he understands its significance and importance both culturally and spiritually.”

“Yes,” Windblade hurries up beside her, “I’m sure he does. As I am just as confident as Starscream in his ability to restore it.”

“Quite,” Starscream says with a click of his glossa as he sidles up to Wheeljack, placing a hand on his shoulder, “What do you say, Jackie? Up for the challenge?”

“Star, I’m an engineer…” Wheeljack softly hints and The Mistress of Flame scoffs.

“And an accomplished chemist if I recall,” Starscream quirks a brow at him, that sly smirk still on his lips, “That’s why you’re perfect. The window has been laid victim to the elements including acid rain and is carefully held in a frame that relies more on pressure than anything else. The piece needs to be taken apart and put back together with an expert hand or it will simply remain in pieces. I’m sure that you can do it. That’s why I recommended you for the job.”

“Isn’t that a little…” Wheeljack’s optics flick to the other mechs in the room before settling on Starscream again, “out of my department?”

“Well,” Starscream pouts and tilts his head, “What are you working on right now? Would it be too much to fit it in?”

Wheeljack thinks back to the project still laid out over his station at the lab and sighs, shaking his head.

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Wheeljack looks back at the window, “Who knows? Might be fun.”

Windblade smiles at that and gives him a little nod of thanks before walking away to call in mechs to load up the window for transport back to his lab. Starscream tries to catch him in another conversation only for The Mistress of Flame to make her presence known rather haughtily, stepping right in front of Wheeljack with an accusatory finger jabbing his chest right above his spark.

“This isn’t just some pet project,” she hisses, “This is a very important piece of our history, our faith. I am entrusting it to you upon the grounds of the words of others I trust to some extent and simply because no other satisfies my standards for such a delicate process. Know that if there is so much as a chip in the glass I will have retribution.”

With that, she flicks her cape out behind her and strides out of the room at a fast pace. Wheeljack watches her go then shares a look with Starscream who gestures to her implying that is simply how she is making him sigh as his shoulders sag.

Later in the lab, Wheeljack has the window carefully dismantled in front of him which took all of five hours to do just to make sure he didn’t torque the beams holding the glass in place. Then had come carefully melting away the old soldering that he is now only a quarter of the way done. He has to take breaks to let the glass cool down from the heat so it doesn’t fracture from the rapid change in temperature which simply slows down the process even more. During yet another break, he rests his hands against the station and shakes out the aching cables in his shoulders. Lolling his head to the side, he watches Starscream scan the script on the datapad he’s holding, the same he’d been reading this entire time as Wheeljack worked. While either ignoring or simply not noticing Wheeljack’s hard gaze, Starscream makes a few notes on it with a stylus before continuing to read. Wheeljack huffs and straightens back up, stretching the cables and readjusting the suspension in his back before walking over to Starscream who’s perched on a tall chair. He leans against the wall next to Starscream so he can look over his arm to see whatever it is he’s reading and is surprised to find it to be an old text presumably about the very window he’s working on.

“What’s so important about this window that it’s got the Emperor of Cybertron of all people researching it?” Wheeljack murmurs as he continues reading.

Starscream folds his arms to hide the datapad against his chest as he smirks over at Wheeljack, “It is a delicate political matter. It’s important to The Mistress of Flame which means it’s important to Caminus which means it’s important to me.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to research all the ins and outs of it,” Wheeljack pushes off the wall in favor of putting his hands on his hips.

Starscream shakes his head and gets up to push past Wheeljack towards the window.

“The Mistress of Flame knows her lore and scripture like the back of her hand,” Starscream explains with a flare of his hand, “I have to read it forward and backward just to keep up with her and understand what it is she’s even saying.”

“And? What do you make of it so far?” Wheeljack asks as he watches Starscream look over his work.

“A bunch of terribly melodramatic drivel that wants the reader to believe that so long as they have enough faith in Primus he will guide them to their destined,” Starscream rolls his optics at his words and scoffs, “As if.”

“What?” Wheeljack laughs, “You don’t buy into all the stories about chance meetings and miraculous moments of revelation?”

Starscream rolls his optics again and gestates wildly as he goes on a rant, “You mean all those sermons and pronouncements declaring how that Primus chose the perfect mech for even the lowliest cold construct? Please… If the war proved anything it proved that we are all sooner to hate each other than love each other.”

“That’s a rather bitter outlook even for you,” Wheeljack crosses his arms, giving Starscream a look, “Not worried that Primus might try to prove you wrong just to spite you?”

Starscream vents a harsh, sharp laugh, “At least that sounds more like the Primus I know. I know I can’t deny the existence of the marks or that those who share the same ones do wind up being happy but I can’t accept that we’re all walking on this path-”

Starscream’s words cut off into a yelp as he slips on some of the melted flux from the solder that had dripped to the floor. As he flails, trying to get a grip on something to keep himself stable, he accidentally knocks over canisters of oil for other machines and manages to spill some on himself. Wheeljack rushes forward and manages to catch Starscream before he hits the floor, gripping him under his arms as the datapad clattes to the floor. They stall like that, tense from the sudden break in the calm then their optics meet and Starscream’s face tenses.

“Not. One. Word,” Starscreams hisses under his breath.

Wheeljack just blinks down owlishly down at him then breaks out into a deep laugh that shakes his whole chassis, his arms still tightly holding Starscream. Starscream tenses and quickly tries to scramble out of Wheeljack’s hold only to slide more on the flux making Wheeljack have to tighten his grip further to keep him from falling.

“Star, wait, wait,” Wheeljack gasps between vents, calming down his laughter to help right the flier.

Once fully righted, Starscream makes a show of brushing off his thighs and turns pointedly away to delicately step from the work station and back to his chair to sit and rest his chin in his hand rather moodily. Wheeljack continues to laugh softly under his breath as he watches him go then cleans up the bit of mess. It doesn’t take too long to clean up with just a few cans spilled and the flux on the floor. Wheeljack has plenty of rags and solvent on hand to clean it all up, he’s just glad none of the pieces of the window were damaged. After he’s done, he looks back over at Starscream who’s still brooding and still covered in splotches of oil making Wheeljack shake his head. He picks up another rag and drenches it in some solvent before approaching Starscream.

Hearing him approach, Starscream says, “It’s all ridiculous.”

“Hey, come on, everyone slips once in a while,” Wheeljack pats his shoulder.

Starscream straightens up to face him, “Not that. Those stories about how it’s supposed to feel when you meet your soulmate.”

“Uhuh,” Wheeljack sounds, carefully bringing the rag to Starscream’s chest to clean away the oil there and when he makes no move to push Wheeljack away, he continues cleaning Starscream in earnest.

“I’m serious,” Starscream insists, “All that nonsense about knowing just from your optics meeting or from a single touch.”

“Maybe we’re just bitter, old veterans,” Wheeljack shrugs, “Nothing seems enchanting to us anymore.”

“You can’t tell me you actually believe in all of it,” Starscream eyes him as he continues with his work, “How you’re supposed to feel this… spark…”

Starscream trails off and Wheeljack pays no mind to it at first, now cupping Starscream’s face with the rag in his other hand as he dutifully cleans the oil from Starscream’s helm. Once the oil has been all wiped away, however, he returns his attention to Starscream’s optics and is struck still, his hand freezing where it is on Starscream’s face, cupping his cheek. Starscream is looking up at him with an unusual expression and Wheeljack can’t help but return to his dream. Red. Glowing, beautiful, and searing him to his core. He pulls from Starscream slowly and walks away back to the table to set down the rag. Wheeljack tries to steady himself but the same thought swarms his mind: it’s the same.

“So, you’ve never bothered to look at your mark then?” Wheeljack asks, keeping his back to Starscream.

Another scoff breaks the air behind him if somehow subdued, “No amount of skepticism could have quelled that bit of curiosity… I’ve looked at my mark. I don’t know what to make of it.”

“Three diamonds, all interconnected at the shallow points with the middle one higher than the other two and an elongated triangle hanging from the bottom point of it,” Wheeljack says, trying to keep his voice casual only to whip around as something crashes from behind him.

The chair Starscream was sitting on has been knocked to the floor with Starscream standing defensively in front of it with a look of mixed horror and rage stricken on his face. Wheeljack tenses, not ready to know what this means, not ready to understand what he’s feeling. Starscream doesn’t know and marches right up to Wheeljack and grips his arm tightly, the other stretched out ready to attack. Wheeljack doesn’t resist the grip, feeling too off-balance to manage anything else than simply watching Starscream, his little expressions, the way his optics flicker, how his wings twitch in irritation.

“When did you look at it?” Starscream growls out, dangerous and low.

Wheeljack’s optics tilt down as he whispers, “Never. I was describing mine.”

Starscream’s grasp falters as his expression softens to that of shock, his free hand coming up to brush over his own chest where his spark resides.

“You’re lying… Don’t lie to me, Wheeljack. I don’t lie to-” Starscream cuts himself with a harsh vent.

“I know,” Wheeljack says softly, letting his chestplates fold away to reveal his spark, making Starscream step back.

Starscream takes in the sight of Wheeljack’s spark almost hungrily, tracing the mark with his optics, his hand lifting slightly almost as if to touch it. In a moment of spontaneity, Starscream does something Wheeljack would never expect of him and reveals his spark to him and, sure enough, there is a mark to mirror Wheeljack’s own hovering over Starscream’s spark. It’s almost too much and yet suddenly not enough. The desire to reach out, to hold, to touch floods Wheeljack but he doesn’t dare move, can’t find the will to do so, as he’s so paralyzed with fear. Starscream steps closer to him and that’s enough for him to break. Wheeljack closes the distance all at once, taking Starscream’s face in his hands as he all but rips away his mask and presses his lips to Starscreams who melts into him. It starts gentle and chaste then Starscream licks over his lips and he lets him in and in return delves in, tasting Starscream on his glossa, all steel, energon, and the faint taste of zinc he likes to add to his morning energon. It’s perfect. That’s all Wheeljack can think as he feels Starscream’s hands tighten behind his helm as he trails his own down Starscream’s frame to his hips before wrapping his arms around Starscream to pull him closer. As their chestplates meet, they gasp as a sudden sharp pleasure wracks between them, making them break the kiss.

They look down to the soft blue light between them find they had forgotten to conceal their sparks and they had met in the collision and their marks now glow brighter than ever. Wheeljack looks at Starscream sheepishly as he lets his plates close and Starscream does the same while trying to suppress a wonderfully sweet, soft smile. Wheeljack doesn’t resist the impulse to feel that smile on his lips and kisses him again, quickly and softly then presses his face to Starscream’s neck, holding him close. His soulmate.

“I suppose if that could have gone anyway, that was how it was going to go,” Starscream mutters, bemused.

Wheeljack comes back up and smiles at Starscream, “I should’ve known the moment I stepped out that tank. I certainly haven’t been able to stop dreaming about that moment.”

“You’ve been dreaming about me,” Starscream teases but there’s something much more vulnerable just beneath the surface.

“Every night,” Wheeljack confesses.

Starscream just looks at him in disbelief, “You really are oblivious.”

“In all fairness, I didn’t take much stock in the whole soulmate business either,” Wheeljack counters.

“Fair,” Starscream responds flatly before kissing him again and Wheeljack decided that he’d been very stupid indeed.

No more work got done that day.


	2. Day 2 Vacation/Downtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a long day at a festival, Starscream and Wheeljack relax.

Swaths of steel silk sway in the gentle breeze in glimmering hues of red and gold and slide languidly over Starscream’s frame as he leans against the railing of the balcony overlooking the city. The silk hangs from his wings and hips, swaying with every tilt of his frame in a cascade of color and light, warm from the soft rays of the setting sun that makes it so his frame seems to almost come aflame. Wheeljack leans against the door frame that leads to the balcony, just watching Starscream as he takes in the view. It had all been for a festival that had required his esteemed presence and he had yet to take off the vestiments to Wheeljack’s great joy. To say that Starscream looks stunning is an understatement, especially here and now in the stillness, in the quiet. Wheeljack dares to break the moment and approaches Starscream who hears him approach and turns to great him looking tired but calm. Pulling Starscream to him, he lets the emperor rest against his shoulder heavily, all of his weight coming down on him at once but he stands firm and solid under the weight. He sighs and brushes some of the silk on Starscreams wings aside, reveling in the feel of it as he soothes the tense plating just beneath it. Starscream sighs into him, bringing his arms up to wrap around Wheeljack’s waist.

“It wasn’t that rough now, was it?” Wheeljack huffs a laugh.

Starscream pulls away just enough to look up at Wheeljack, his brow raised, “Such events are always echausting my dear Wheeljack but I suppose this has all been far more enjoyable than some business conference. I’m still glad it’s over now. I don’t think I could have lasted any longer. Now, I’m here, with you.”

“With me,” Wheeljack hums, tracing the intricate designs in gold at the rims of his optics, marveling in how they make them pop and kisses the corner of either one.

Starscream laughs, “One good thing that comes from all of this pomp and circumstance is that it does tend to put you in such a good mood.”

“It’s not the fanfare, it’s you and how wonderful you look,” Wheeljack whispers into the side of Starscream’s helm, humming low.

“Flatterer,” Starscream teases as he brushes his lips against Wheeljack’s light-up finial.  
Wheeljack pulls Starscream closer and vents in deep, sinking into the feeling of having him so near. These are his favorite moments with Starscream, when everything slows down just enough to let them regain themselves and rest, to just be. He wanders over Starscream’s frame lazily, taking in every seam and curve, ones he’s already memorized perfectly and Starscream sighs again under him, enjoying the soft treatment.

“Bond with me,” Wheeljack whispers and Starscream laughs, quiet and gentle.

“We’re already bonded,” Starscream reminds him softly, smiling against Wheeljack’s pauldron and subtly hiding his face.

“Then bond with me again… and again,” Wheeljack says as he repositions them so their forehelms are resting together, “So that we can be together in the next life and the one after that as well.”

“You want all of my lives?” Starscream ask pleasantly and incredulously.

“You have all of mine,” Wheeljack tells him like it’s obvious, like there shouldn’t be any doubt.

Starscream squints up at him, still smiling, “When did you become such a sappy bastard?”

“When you told me you loved me.”

Starscream shakes his head and closes his optics, “I was yelling at you… I was so… Why did you even pick me?”

“It’s okay,” Wheeljack cups Starscream’s helm and brushes his cheek, “I needed the wake up call.”

Starscream tilts his helm forward and kisses Wheeljack softly, letting his lips linger on Wheeljack’s mask.

“I love you,” Starscream whispers against Wheeljack’s mask and it snaps away fast but Starscream pulls away before Wheeljack can kiss him.

Starscream steps away, his optics still on Wheeljack and a mischievous smile quirking his lips, the silk flowing luxuriously with his movements in the gentle breeze. He reaches out his hand to Wheeljack, his optics burning with promise and desire and, of course, Wheeljack takes his hand. Then, Starscream leads him back in from the balcony and into their room, into the shadows to hold him close as the day comes to an end.


	3. Day 3 Trust and Reverance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wheeljack, for once, is the one with the secret

Wheeljack doesn’t have many secrets; none that are important anyway, important to anyone but him. A lot of mechs don’t have a mouth so it’s no surprise to anyone when they see his mask and never see him take it off to consume energon or even just casually. It’s not a particularly dire secret, he knows this but all the same he knows how it would get if others ever found out about it, about what he hides under his mask. It used to not matter that he had a mask but now mouths were the norm, the fashion of the here and now, so the fact that he has a mask has become more noticeable. It had been less of a concern to him when Optimus Prime had his mask but then he needed to be repaired and the upgrades had conflicted so he had to wind up with a mouth so he couldn’t even use that tried excuse anymore, not that he had actually been trying to emulate the Prime anyway. It’s not that he doesn’t have a mouth, that’s not the issue. It’s what his mouth looks like; how poorly it fits and how glaring it is in comparison to the rest of his frame. So, that’s why he’s sitting in his lab, trying to get the right specs on his mouth so he can change it, so he doesn’t have to wear his mask anymore.

Wheeljack’s so used to seeing himself with his mask, a piece that has become a part of him, that when he looked in the mirror for the first time with it off he was caught off-guard and even flinched. A mouth that’s more a maw with teeth-like protrusions too jagged with far too great a multitude that would suit a beastformer better than his own frame built for a vehicle mode. All the same, he worked around it, scanning the fine plating and cables responsible for more precise movement and the ends of his sensornet responsible for touch and even taste. It’s slow going work and he has to take breaks for the sake of his straining hands and his straining thoughts that popped up with every glance at the gaping space in his face. It didn’t help when he closed it as fang-like structures would peak out from his upper jaw and push against his lower lip which still feels awkward after having those sensors turned off for so long. Wheeljack would keep them turned off if he didn’t need them on to run the diagnostics and to map out his sensornet so he can maintain any and all sensitivity with the replacement. Feeling it is almost as bad as seeing it so that even looking away from the mirror he can’t stop thinking about how terrifying it looks, how alien it is, how other. It all makes his plating crawl and his venting quicken. He can’t do it. He wants to be able to change it so badly but he can’t get the data he needs to do so.

Aside from the mental effort, the equipment he’s using has to be stuck in at odd angles and gets caught on his teeth making it even harder to scan his mouth. He’s thrown his tools aside and put his head in his hands many times now, each time feeling his fangs brush against his hands. Wheeljack sighs and slumps back in his chair, letting his head loll back, heavy and tired. There was no one he was going to be able to do this alone, he was going to need help but there was no one he could turn to, no one he wanted to know what he looked like now. That was the hope initially: that he could just make this change without anyone ever knowing the truth in the first place. It was his secret and his alone to bear.

That’s the thought sinking into his mind when he hears the door open with a hiss and he’s suddenly scrambling up, frantically searching for his facemask with it nowhere in sight. Footsteps casually approach from behind him and he slows his search, letting his hands still and moving just his optics around the space. The steps stop a ways away from him and the room becomes completely silent, tense in the moment of unknown.

“Wheeljack,” Starscream’s floats from behind him, “What are you doing? Did you lose something?”

Wheeljack’s spark pulses faster as he begins to tap the table in front of him erratically, “I, uh, yeah… I lost my facemask.”

He decides it’s better to lie as little as possible to Starscream, someone who’s already heard them all and who knows better than anyone how to keep a secret.

“Oh,” Starscream walks up just next to Wheeljack, making him jump and turn away, “Why did you take it off?”

“I’m-I’m,” he stutters, cursing his nervous and shaking hands, “I’m thinking about getting a mouth.”

One that actually fits, his mind substitutes for him but he doesn’t dare say it aloud.

“Oh?” Starscream hums curiously as he scans the lab station with his optics, lazily looking for any sign of Wheeljack’s mask, “Why the change?”

“A better fit,” Wheeljack’s voice is terse and reveals far too much of what he's feeling.

Starscream seems to notice and looks over to Wheeljack who’s still turned away. Suddenly, Starscream steps around to stand in front of him that’s too fast for Wheeljack to turn around but he manages to cover the lower half of his face with his hands. His optics narrow at Wheeljack as he leans in making Wheeljack step back slightly.

“Oh please,” Starscream rolls his optics, “I’ve seen the faces of mechs without mouths before. It’s hardly shocking to me anymore and nowhere near as disturbing as some claim it to be. They’re all just too squeamish for their own good.”

Wheeljack’s frame tightens and he clenches hands tighter to his face.

Sensing his words weren’t taken well, Starscream, more softly, says, “What I mean is: you won’t get any judgement from me.”

“It’s not…” Wheeljack shakes his head, his arms moving with the motion, “It’s not what you think…”

Starscream looks down and clenches and unclenches his hands in a nervous tick then sighs. He looks to Wheeljack, optics more earnest than Wheeljack has ever seen them, stunning him into complete stillness as Starscream brings his hands to gently rest on Wheeljack’s wrists, not pulling, pushing, or tugging, just resting. The weight of Starcream’s hands are strangely reassuring and Wheeljack slightly relaxes his arms despite himself.

“Trust me,” Starscream whispers, “I promise, whatever it is, you don’t need to be afraid of how I’ll react. There’s nothing I haven’t seen, nothing I’d judge you poorly for.”

Wheeljack stares at Starscream, feeling the touch on his wrists increase in pressure but only to reassure and Wheeljack is just so caught off guard by how gentle Starscream is being. Never looking away from Starscream’s optics, he lowers his hands, bracing himself for what’s to come. Starscream follows the motion of his hands with his own and his optics then looks to Wheeljack’s mouth, his attention freezing there and… nothing. Wheeljack watches for even the slightest change in Starscream’s face but there’s nothing and that’s almost worse, worse for not telling him what Starscream’s thinking. Optics not leaving Wheeljack’s mouth, Starscream raises one hand but seeming to think better of whatever he was about to do, he pulls it away.

“That’s certainly not what I was expecting,” Starscream comments and goes to the tools on the table, “And you want to change it? Is that what all these are for?”

Wheeljack frowns and looks Starscream up and down before telling him, “No, those are just to get different measurements and reads of my mouth so I can actually design my new one.”

“Oh,” Starscream says off-handedly, picking up one of the devices to inspect it, “and how’s that going?”

“Not well,” Wheeljack confesses, looking away from the gadgets.

Starscream sets the tool back down and looks back to Wheeljack, “I’d suspect not. Working on your own mouth like that is hardly easy. I’ll help you.”

Wheeljack snaps up at that, looking at Starscream as though he just said he could cure the world of all disease. 

“I-Are you sure?” Wheeljack asks and doesn’t miss how Starscream’s optics track the movement of his exposed mouth.

“Quite,” Starscream nods and hurries away to wash his hands.

When he’s done, he comes back and motions for Wheeljack to take a seat. He does so hesitantly as he watches Starscream re-sterilize some of the equipment carefully and thoroughly then tenses as he comes up to him with a scanner. Starscream gestures for him to open up and he does so slowly, still unsure of all of this but willing to let Starscream try as he seems to have no aversion to mouth. As his jagged teeth become unveiled to Starscream, Wheeljack see his optics trace them, undeterred and maybe even… eager. He turns his attention away as Starscream begins probing his mouth and completes the task he’d been trying to do for the past five hours in just ten minutes before moving onto the next. As Starscream works on his mouth, Wheeljack is almost hyper aware of everything he does from the touch of Starscream’s free hand on his chin, keeping him still or tilting his head when needed to the delicate bump and clack of the instruments against his teeth. As the minutes tick by, he’s able to relax more and more under Starscream’s dutiful attention and even closes his optics, just letting Starscream work and before he knows it, it’s over.

Wheeljack sits up and rubs his jaw that’s now sore after keep his mouth open for so long and opens and closes his mouth experimentally, stretching out the cables. Starscream puts the tools away off to the side as he does so then stops and puts his hands down in thought. He turns around to Wheeljack, looking over his face as if searching for something making Wheeljack tense up.

“Yes?” Wheeljack asks.

“Are you sure you want to change your mouth?” Starscream steps over to him, optics magnetized to Wheeljack’s mouth.

“Yeah,” Wheeljack puts flatly, standing up to meet Starscream, “I’m sure.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it though,” Starscream’s hand rise slightly, reflexively, “It’s in perfect condition. It’s perfectly aligned. It’s…”

“It’s terrifying,” Wheeljack whispers, feeling his chest tighten and hearing his voice sound far weaker than he would like, far too vulnerable.

Starscream touches his face then, his thumb tracing Wheeljack’s lower lip and the gesture is enough to befuddle him into a kind of calm, no longer thinking about his mouth but what about Starscream is doing. His hand is warm, Wheeljack thinks irrationally, and the touch against his mouth is so new but so nice. No one has ever touched it like this before, let alone bothered to get close enough to touch without being revolted.

“I want to kill whoever made you think your mouth is something that’s repulsive,” Starscream whispers, quiet enough that Wheeljack thinks he might not have meant to say it.

“If it’s not repulsive than what is it?” Wheeljack grumbles.

Starscream’s optics flick up to his then back down to his mouth and appears to lose all sense as he leans forward and presses his own lips against Wheeljack’s. It’s like an electric shock, his sensornet having been shut off for so long that it has become oversensitive, letting him feel every press and brush of Starscream’s mouth against his own. It’s so shocking he gasps and Starscream seems to take that as an invitation to slip his glossa into Wheeljack’s mouth pushing at Wheeljack’s own, the feeling of it making him suddenly unsteady. He scrambles for a hold on Starscream and finds himself pushing into the touch and closing his optics. Wheeljack’s never felt anything like this before and that it’s Starscream somehow just makes it better, sweeter, more secure. Starscream knows how to keep secrets and he would never out Wheeljack with something like this, something that now feels so trivial with Starscream all but melting into him. Sighing into Wheeljack’s mouth, Starscream runs his glossa over fang and jagged teeth that detect the pressure and sending positive feedback to Wheeljack’s sensornet. Wheeljack pulls Starscream closer, a moan escaping his intake involuntarily as the positive feedback loop from Starscream’s soft touches escalates. Starscream throws arms around the back of Wheeljack’s neck, tugging him as close as possible.

When they break apart, their cooling fans are as their top speed and they remain clinging to each other, nose ridges pressed together. Wheeljack keeps his optics shuttered at first, processing what just happened then opens to look at Starscream, pulling his head back somewhat. Starscream’s optics are dim and staring at him with something that Wheeljack doesn’t dare name. He doesn’t pull away or step back, wanting to memorize the feeling of Starscream so close to him, his plating warm and smooth against him as his vents push cool air over his frame. His mouth feels like it’s buzzing from all the stimulation it’s received after being dormant for so long. It’s a heavy, dizzying feeling and Wheeljack finds himself not wanting it to end. Then he remembers his plans and stalls, conflict welling up in his chassis but also finding he didn’t feel as though his mouth was so frightening anymore but couldn’t push the feeling away completely.

“Sexy,” Starscream finally vents out, heady and warm.

“What?” Wheeljack asks, shaking his head in confusion, still disoriented from the kiss.

“Your mouth,” Starscream states and taps the feature with one finger pointedly, “It isn’t repulsive at all. It’s sexy as hell.”

“Oh…” Wheeljack says quietly, “Well, maybe I will rethink getting it changed then.”

“Good,” Starscream nods before kissing Wheeljack again.

Wheeljack sinks into Starscream and decides that it’s definitely a choice for another day.


	4. Day 4 - Hobbies - Plants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wheeljack discovers Starscream's very uncharacteristic hobby

Green. That was not something Wheeljack was expecting when he walked into Starscream’s habsuite to discuss some files that he had asked about and now Wheeljack can’t help staring at the crowding flora. If it were not for the numerous pots hanging and sitting around the main living space the whole suite would look barren and unlived in. There’s no decoration beyond the plants beyond a few odd trinkets here and there and all the furniture is very minimalist. Overall, it didn’t feel like Starscream’s place at all. There was no luxurious furnishings or dramatic curtains to frame the light filtering through the large windows that presented a view of the more scenic parts of the newly repaired city. It’s… nice, homey if strange which are all attributes Wheeljack never thought he’d apply to anything Starscream related but here he is, in Starscream’s suite surrounded by alien life that has been carefully tended to the point of being lush and healthy. He becomes mesmerized by a gorgeous purple flower dangling from one of the hanging pots that’s filling the air with a sweet scent like nothing he’s ever encountered before. Wheeljack notes that it’s probably one of Starscream’s favorites as many others like it but in different colors hangs around the room in far greater frequency.

Setting down the datapads, Wheeljack walks around the room, taking in all of the different plants and assessing each one with a gentle touch, careful not to bruise any of the delicate leaves. A strange burst of something flutters in Wheeljack’s spark as he sees plant after plant that’s so healthy and vibrant that he feels that painstaking effort must have been made to get them so. It’s all so lovely, he just doesn’t know what to make of it.

“Do you like them?” Starscream asks, finally joining him from the dining area with two cubes of energon and hands one to Wheeljack.

“I do,” Wheeljack nods and takes the energon without looking away from the plants, “I admit I’m at a loss. I thought you didn’t like organics.”

Starscream scoffs and takes a sip of his energon which Wheeljack has realized is one of the many ways he hides is true expressions.

“I hate the mess of the animals and the smell,” Starscream shudders then looks back to his plants and smiles, “I have found that many plants don’t have those issues. Admittedly, they can be a bit messy at times when you have to plant or prune them or when they shed their leaves but it's a much more manageable and cleaner -forgive the oxymoron- mess.”

“You really like them,” Wheeljack sets his energon down and smiles over at Starscream, “Love them even.”

Looking at Starscream now, he could really see it, the bright green leaves and vines crowding around the seeker’s frame, framing him elegantly and making his red plating stand out all the more. The smattering of flowers make him almost look delicate, especially when he takes a blush toned one in hand and runs his fingers over it gently, indulgently. At the last second, Wheeljack manages to catch himself before he gets too close, already well in Starscream’s space now without even realizing he had moved.

“I suppose,” Starscream says over to him, not looking away from his plants, “It’s all Thundercracker’s fault anyway. He said he had some kind of revelation that I wasn’t anything like what the humans call a ‘cat person’ or ‘dog person’... Said I wasn’t even more inclined to the exotic. He put a plant in my hand he’d gotten from some market on a trade station near Earth -council owned- and declared that I’m a plant person.”

Wheeljack looks around again and ponders if Thundercracker realizes what nature of monster he’s unleashed onto Cybertron now. Clearly, Starscream had not been satisfied with just the one and had set about to get more until his living space was fit to burst. He laughs a little under his breath and feels a little giddy at getting to discover a small thing about Starscream, another thing no one else knows.

“Do you still have it?” Wheeljack asks, looking around as if he’d know which one it was.

“I do,” Starscream admits quietly and walks away, expecting Wheeljack to follow him.

He winds up leading Wheeljack to his office which is filled with even more plants to an even greater density if that was even possible and stops at his desk and gestures to the little pot there. It’s small by Cybertronian standards, the leaves are a lovely dark green with little strips of yellow forming horizontally along the long leaves sitting in a round, white pot. For all the world, it’s cute. 

“You’re not much one for expressing your gratitude so what did you tell Thundercracker when you discovered your love of plants?” Wheeljack crosses his arms, watching Starscream, bemused.

Starscream keeps his optics on his little plant as he says, “I told him it died.”

Wheeljack jolts as a surprised laugh erupts from him, shaking his frame and making Starscream look at him in slight affront.

“That sounds like you,” Wheeljack smiles fondly at Starscream, “Couldn’t even give him the chance to gloat, huh?”

Starscream picks up a spray bottle and busies himself with misting some of his plants, turning determinedly from Wheeljack.

“I couldn’t let him have something so… vulnerable from me,” Starscream says the word ‘vulnerable’ like it could actively hurt him forcing an aching flare from Wheeljack’s spark.

So much has changed on Cybertron, between them since things had calmed down after the end of the war so to see Starscream sticking into old habits such as these, even with something so small, was painful to watch.

“He wasn’t trying to get something from you, you know,” Wheeljack puts a hand on his shoulder, getting Starscream to turn to look at him.

“I know,” Starscream says and the way he says it makes Wheeljack think he does, “Things are just still uneasy between us.”

“Don’t you think it was his way of smoothing a piece of it over?” Wheeljack offers.

Starscream sighs and puts the spray bottle down, “Yeah, yeah it was. I guess I just didn’t want him to be right about me.”

“You don’t want to admit he knows you better than you think he does?” Wheeljack nudges Starscream who looks at him ruefully.

“Something like that,” Starscream mutters.

Wheeljack looks back at all the plants around them and is struck with a thought.

“How do you even have time to take care of them all? Aren’t things like this high maintenance?”

“Not as much as you might think,” Starscream supplies as he idly spins one of the hanging pots, “So long as they’re getting the right amount of sun and water that’s about it. Plants are pretty good at supporting themselves and often don’t like to be messed with too much. With most of these plants I can miss a day or two and they’ll be fine.”

“So they’re like you then,” Wheeljack teases and Starscream snaps to look at him, a confused look on his face, “Just give enough attention but not too much too overwhelm and they’ll be okay, healthy, perfect, and beautiful.”

Starscream laughs almost bitterly but it’s light enough that Wheeljack pays it no mind.

“What?” Starscream asks, his tone pitched high and baffled, “Are you calling me of all people ‘perfect’ and ‘beautiful’?”

Wheeljack leans over to Starscream and brushes away some leaves that had fallen on his helm from the spinning plant.

“Maybe.”

Starscream face falls into a tense expression in one of the very rare moments of actually being taken off guard and watches Wheeljack carefully.

“I like that you can share this with me,” Wheeljack confesses, gentle as not to startle him, “It was surprising… and wonderful. You’re not anything like what everyone else expects. I like that about you. There’s always more.”

Starscream huffs a short, stilted laugh, “Stop it. I’m not… You’re walking a dangerous path here, Wheeljack.”

Wheeljack steps fully in front of Starscream, “Try me.”

Never one to back out of a challenge, Starscream pushes forward, taking both of Wheeljack’s shoulders in his hand and presses a kiss over his mask. It’s quick, light, almost shy but it’s a kiss and it’s effective in knocking Wheeljack off balance so he’s stammering. Confused but happy, he tries to find the words he wants to say as Starscream smirks at him and is still very close to him. Giving up altogether on saying anything witty that could wipe that self-satisfied smirk off his face, Wheeljack lets his mask slide away and kisses Starscream in full, tender and sweet before pulling away. Now it’s his turn to smirk with Starscream gazing at him openly, lips still parted from the kiss and Wheeljack decides that’s a good look on him, cute even. Then, Starscream seems to regain himself and -with a wicked grin- pushes Wheeljack back on his desk, still careful of the plants.

Hovering over Wheeljack, he says, “I think those files are going to have to wait a while, don’t you agree?”

“Ah,” Wheeljack stutters, “M-maybe…”

Then Starscream actually smiles sweetly at him and he knows he’s a goner and he really can’t find it in himself to mind.


	5. Day 5 Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wheeljack has nightmares. Starscream helps.

Everything was dark and cold. There was no up or down. He couldn’t move or speak or see. There wasn’t any sensation he could retain any information, all he had was the memory of sound or touch but even that was beginning to blur and fade from memory. He doesn’t think he really remembers what warmth is anymore. What’s more is he’s alone and probably dead. This is death, he thinks, this is it. If this is what the Allspark is then… Then he curses every zealot for having the audacity to instill even the faintest glimmer of faith within him and he ever found a way he was going to torment them for the rest of eternity. Then, suddenly, he’s shocked from his thoughts as his frame tightens up, the first true sensation he’s felt in who knows how long and it’s so new that the pain from it is tenfold. He tries to escape but he still can’t move. Trapped, he can’t do anything about what’s happening and he wants to scream from the pain, from fear but no sound comes out. And worst of all… he’s alone.

Wheeljack gasps awake and his body becomes a whir of motion as he reaches out quickly to grasp whatever awoke him, not in offense or defense but just to gain control. It all comes back slowly to him, starting with touch, the warm plating beneath his hand, then sight and he sees the concerned visage of Starscream before him. He’s frozen in his position, still reaching out towards Wheeljack and he realizes belatedly that it was Starscream who had broken him out of his nightmare. Sound clicks back on and he connects the process to being shocked out of stasis, it happens all the time and is perfectly normal. During stasis, most non-vital processes are shut down which could replicate the feelings of his nightmare, of his memory of being in the pod, healing from injuries that should have been fatal. Prolonged time in any such device effects differently and for Wheeljack, well, it was having nightmares for him but he can handle that, he could… He shivers involuntary from the aftershock, still not able to fully shake off the fear no matter what logic he applied to it but he wasn’t in the pod anymore, he had to remember that. It doesn’t help to remember, nothing seems to be able to push it away. 

“Wheeljack?” Starscream’s voice comes softly, almost as though he was speaking through water and Wheeljack resets his audials so that his voice becomes clearer, “Are you alright?”

“Nightmare, sorry,” Wheeljack responds flatly, his hand still tight on Starscream’s arm and he tries to pull it away but no matter how hard he tries he can’t get himself to let go, almost as though he were magnetized to Starscream. He panics for a moment because knowing some of his inventions that could be a real thing that happened.

“What about?” Starscream’s words recapture his attention and he blinks at him, confused. “What was your nightmare about?” Starscream clarifies.

“Being in the pod,” Wheeljack responds on command and winces.

“Oh,” Starscream says and there’s an automatic understanding there as he averts his gaze from Wheeljack.

Wheeljack leans in to take back what he said or tell Starscream that it’s not his fault but no sound escapes him and they’re left in tense silence. Starscream shivers but doesn’t move otherwise.

“Why is your lab so cold?” Starscream says under his breath, scowling as if to curse the air itself.

Oh, Wheeljack realizes, that must have been it. Now that Starscream had said it, he could feel how truly cold the lab had become which must’ve triggered the nightmare in the first place. How could he not notice?

“You should turn up the temperature in here,” Starscream suggests to him, looking at him again but not bothering to move away.

“Yeah,” Wheeljack agrees with Starscream still in his group who hasn’t tried to move or pull away.

He really should turn on the heat. He should go over to the thermostat and increase the temperature but he doesn’t. His feet remain right where they are with Starscream in his grip, his plating warm to the touch and so real and so unlike his nightmare. Without thinking, he pulls Starscream towards himself and wraps his arms around him, sinking into him and clinging to him like a lifeline. Starscream tenses under him and his senses come back to him in a rush, making him begin to pull back but then he’s being held to Starscream in a vice-like grip. He lets himself relax and be held, the warmth from Starscream’s frame slowly but surely chasing his nightmare away.

“This isn’t exactly what I meant but I suppose it works,” Starscream jokes and it’s enough to get Wheeljack to straighten up to level a look at him only for him to smirk playfully.

Wheeljack decides just to shrug it off and take advantage of the situation, as surprising as it is and leans his helm against Starscream’s and watches his smirk falter, briefly turning into a nervous smile before falling flat. Tight and nervous, Starscream watches him carefully as he rests a hand against Wheeljack’s helm.

“Thank you,” Wheeljack whispers and Starscream almost pulls his hand away in surprise.

“Whatever for?”

“For breaking me out of my nightmare,” Wheeljack sighs, fully calming down, “It’s better with you here.”

“Oh,” Starscream says, petting Wheeljack’s helm idly as though he weren’t aware he was doing it, “Anytime.”

“Really?” Wheeljack looks back up, surprised.

Starscream shrugs, “If it’s you I see no problem with it.”

“It’s not as though you’ll be able to be there every time I have a nightmare,” Wheeljack points out but holds his position, unwilling to let go, “That’s just unreasonable.”

“You have my comm frequency,” he says casually, as if they weren’t practically cuddling.

Wheeljack doesn’t know what it is about Starscream’s words, but he believes him without a hint of doubt, that Starscream will be there when he calls. The way his optics are glowing softly, the weight of his arms behind his neck, the warmth of his frame… It’s all real and safe, maybe not to anyone else but to him it is, because it’s for him. There’s something here, something he’d like to say is new but that’s not true. Whatever this is it’s been here for a while and that in of itself is comforting. Even so, the nightmares will come back, he knows that, but now, he’s not alone.

“Always?” Wheeljack asks and he doesn’t even really know what he’s asking but Starscream smiles and he stops worrying about the finer details.

“Always.”


	6. Day 6 - Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wheeljack's inner turmoil

Wheeljack’s been there for too long, just staring, he knows that but he still doesn’t move from where he’s standing, doesn’t dare break the moment. Starscream fell asleep on his desk and was now gently snoozing the day away which is how Wheeljack found him when he came into the office to deliver some reports. Not wanting to wake him, Wheeljack decided to wait there until he woke up with probably far more selfish reasons than just wanting to turn in some documents. He only ever seems to be peaceful when he’s asleep. The tilt of his wings has lowered to a more relaxed height, his lips curve into a soft frown and his brow has smoothed into a far more relaxed expression. Wheeljack wasn’t going to kid himself, Starscream looked cute like this and if he could get away with a capture of this he would take several but alas that was not to be. Starscream would find out nearly right away and then he’d be outed without an excuse good enough to cover up the truth, a truth that had been very terrifying to Wheeljack at first. It hadn’t been something he’d been expecting but with how Starscream has looked to him for aid and the things that he’s shared with Wheeljack, he couldn’t help thinking about the seeker. Those thoughts slowly drifted to other things, other possibilities and that’s when it clicked.

The feelings had been terrifying at first and he had no idea what to do with it all. It had been horrible at first, knowing he could tell no one and that he could never have what he wanted but he wanted it nevertheless. Then he had accepted it, accepted that he was in the best position he could be in and the closest he would ever come to what he desired. That would have to be enough and he was content with that, happy to be a confidant, an ally, a friend. He wouldn’t trade that for the world. Of course, he still dreamt of what could be if he only gave in and said something but he has no expectations either good or bad, however, he does know it would put unnecessary pressure on Starscream. So, he just stands to the side, as always, and watches Starscream snooze on his desk in a moment of calm that is very rare for the seeker, not wanting to disturb him. Eventually, ever so slowly, he moves forward to the desk and delicately sets the datapad he’d been carrying next to Starscream’s resting form on the desk. His hand hovers over it for a moment, and then another.

With the greatest care, he moves his hand to brush the side of Starscream’s helm and stops dead, not even venting as Starscream shifts at the contact but when he doesn’t wake up, Wheeljack continues forward. Resting his hand fully on Starscream’s helm, he smooths it over the warm plating, petting the sleeping seeker. Starscream sighs under the touch, almost as though he could sense the intention behind it. Wheeljack knows that it’s selfish, that he shouldn’t be doing this but he can’t help it, being so close to Starscream always makes his mind fuzzy. The simple touch is all he dares, though, nothing more, nothing less. It’s painful in knowing this is all he can ever have but blissful in knowing he can have this at all.

The same need, the same desire he has whenever he thinks of Starscream bubbles up now and so he leans down, just enough to see Starscream’s face and whispers ever so softly, “I love you.”

With that and the datapads dropped off, he dismisses the idea to wait around until Starscream wakes up and he leaves to let Starscream rest.


	7. Day 7 Freespace: Confession Cont

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream wasn't as asleep as Wheeljack thought he was

The door closed with a hiss behind Wheeljack and as soon as he’s sure he’s gone, Starscream sits up, spark pulsing erratically. He gets up slowly, gaze locked onto the door as he steadies himself, recovering from just waking from recharge and the shock he’d just received. How long Wheeljack had actually been there, he doesn’t know, all he knows is that he had been there and had been acting strangely so he pretended to still be in recharge and, in truth, he was halfway in recharge. The touch had almost broken his facade, he’d almost miss the confession. He had been just about to break from his ruse, amused by the idea of embarrassing Wheeljack but then he had said… A cloud overcomes his mind as he wonders how many times Wheeljack could have done that. Was this the first? How long had Wheeljack… It’s too much and he’s suddenly too frustrated to think properly, frustrated at himself for letting something so small affect him so drastically. Starscream sighs, sitting back down at his desk, unsure of what he was thinking of doing in the first place. Sliding the reports that Wheeljack had dropped off over to himself, he tries to get back to work.

He fails. No matter how he tries and he does try, he can’t stop his thoughts from drifting to Wheeljack, the touch on his helm as he rested on his desk. Those words that Wheeljack had said echoing in his mind making his spark stutter every time and finally gives up on actually doing anything when the memory pops again abruptly, intruding into his mind like some kind of assassin. It makes his thoughts scatter and mix up until all he can think about are those three little words. He pushes his work away in frustration and puts his head in his hands, unable to think, unable to do anything. How Wheeljack managed to get under his plating he’ll never know but he’s sure that this is slowly becoming a problem he can’t ignore. If he’s honest with himself, which isn’t very often, he doesn’t want to ignore it. Grumbling nonsense, he looks once more to the discarded datapads and picks up one of the ones that Wheeljack brought that happened to actually be one of the scientist’s personal datapads. He runs his fingers over the well-worn scratches that have come with years of use, scratches that he’s memorized unwittingly and almost hates how easy it is for him to pick it out from the rest. There’s nothing left to do with it now that he’s finished all the paperwork that has to do with the relevant information. All that can be done with it is to be returned.

Starscream’s never used such a weak excuse before and is ashamed to admit that it is an excuse because it’s not as though he needs to be the one to return the datapad. He could just let it all go but at the same time he could never let it go, doesn’t want to let it go, so he marches forth and hits the panel to let himself into Wheeljack’s lab. With his usual casual flare, he strides into the room and inspects it half-heartedly as though to make it not as obvious that his true intention is to speak with Wheeljack. The scientist, formerly engrossed with his latest project, lifts his head up to greet Starscream only to roll his eyes at Starscream’s little display. Stopping right in front of Wheeljack, Starscream unceremoniously presents Wheeljack with the datapad without any comment. Wheeljack looks between the datapad proffered to him and Starscream before deciding he might as well take the thing already and so grips it carefully while leveling a calculating look at Starscream, all his uncertainty displayed quite plainly. Starscream tries not to let it get to him but it does because it’s Wheeljack and Wheeljack had confessed something unfathomable, unknowable. He shouldn’t but he expects something to happen but why would it? Wheeljack doesn’t know he knows, so he’ll act as he always does.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of the emperor delivering my datapad to me in person?” Wheeljack eyes him up and down, tossing his head back casually in a mock evaluation. It’s something Starscream should have seen before, should have noticed but he was so caught up in who he, himself is to ever bother.

“I had fallen into recharge so I didn’t get a chance to go over the reports with you before so I thought I’d do that now,” Starscream says as he leans against the counter.

Wheeljack doesn’t move for a moment then tosses the datapad into a pile of datapads cluttering a part of his lab and crosses his arms. A little startled, Starscream’s optics flick to the pile then back to Wheeljack, casual demeanor gone.

“Why are you really here, Starscream?” Wheeljack tilts his head at him.

Starscream doesn’t dare move, thinking of what to say, out of his comfort zone and at a loss of what direction he intends on taking this, he’s far too slow for his liking in his dilemma. Apparently, Wheeljack agrees with that statement, leaning on the counter and into Starscream’s space, he makes it clear with his optics that he’s not up for any kind of game today.

“You said you don’t lie to me,” Wheeljack points an accusatory finger at Starscream.

That’s enough to tick Starscream off in his already fragile position and for the first time in millions of years he speaks without thinking, snapping, “And you said you love me.”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth he knows that he messed up. This isn’t how he had wanted to bring it up, he didn’t even know how he had wanted to bring up just that this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Wheeljack seems to have taken it badly, slumping against the counter and optics wide with fear, with sadness, with what Starscream doesn’t know. Everything he’s ever learned about reading others, about understanding them flies out the window to some faraway place.

When Wheeljack speaks it’s soft and so unlike him, Starscream almost recoils, almost, “You heard.”

It’s not a question.

“Yes,” Starscream says and he knows that this moment is important, that its significant and something is supposed to happen. This moment will change them forever but… He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do.

“Well?” Wheeljack asks in the pause, heavy with the unspoken, the unknown.

“Well, what?” Starscream parrots back and he does recoil this time as Wheeljack’s shoulders slump, “I heard you.”

“Oh,” he vents and hikes himself back up, not looking at Starscream, “Well, if that’s everything, I’m going to get back to work.”

And he does. Wheeljack goes back to working on his project like Starscream wasn’t there which stings somehow. Not knowing what to do, he stares, dumbfounded, as Wheeljack carefully moves his hands, tinkering as he always does and without another word, Starscream leaves. In the hall, his chassis feels tight, restrictive with a distinct pain in his spark and he understands Wheeljack is upset and now he’s upset that Wheeljack’s upset. Isn’t that a hell of a revelation? Starscream let’s out a laugh then chokes it off as it comes out more as a sob. He’s done something wrong. That wasn’t right. He forgot himself completely, he had no plan, of course, it all went sour. What was it that he was even trying to do?

From then on, things weren’t normal between him and Wheeljack. In meetings, they didn’t greet each other, they didn’t linger afterward to talk together with Starscream complaining about the delegates while Wheeljack listened patiently. During the day, there was barely a hello between them. Whenever Wheeljack needed to turn in a report, he gave it to Rattrap or Windblade and never on one of his personal datapads. Starscream never saw these things until they were gone, how much Wheeljack had become a part of his life and now that it’s gone, it hurts. There it was, all of it, right in front of him and he squandered it, like he squanders every glimmer of hope in his life which, admittedly, has not been many nor this precious. He didn’t know how badly he wanted it all before but he does now and it is significantly weighing on him to the point he can no longer hide it. So, to make it all worse, people were beginning to notice. People started skirting around the two of them awkwardly, staring at them both all the while as gossip and rumors filled the air, none of it pleasant. It was all blackmail or a twisted experiment that had gone wrong, wrong enough for him to grow a conscience.

He had to fix this. Somehow, he would fix it, he could still fix it. No matter his unease, he makes a plan so that this time, this time, he won’t mess it up. He knew everyone’s schedules like the back of his hand, so, it’s easy enough to figure out when he could get Wheeljack alone, where they could talk away from all the others without anyone hearing. It’s just after their daily meeting that’s more or less just everyone standing around, giving updates before it’s adjourned and they all head their separate ways. What’s useful about this meeting is that everyone is required to be there so even if he wanted to, Wheeljack wouldn’t be able to skip except for an emergency. So, Starscream’s able to make an excuse after he sees the scientist slip out of the room and tail Wheeljack down the hall until they come out into the gardens. Wheeljack is a mech of habit, and as such, has made a habit to come out here to clear his head after their daily meeting. Starscream, of course, knows this and waits until Wheeljack is at the same stone, railing he leans against to take it all in that’s in the more secluded part of the garden before he makes his approach.

He’s slow in his approach as if approaching a creature that’s easy to startle and with a sinking feeling, compares himself to a hunter because that might as well be what this is at this point: a hunt. Even so, he approaches and takes in Wheeljack as he does. His broad shoulders are relaxed and the sun shines down on him in soft light, turning parts of him into silhouette. Starscream stretches out his hand to touch Wheeljack’s back and get him to turn around before deciding against it and instead leans against the railing next to Wheeljack. Wheeljack tenses but gives no other inclination that he knows Starscream’s there. Starscream sighs, and lets his head fall. This is already going poorly.

“When we last talked…” Starscream begins before trailing off, steadying himself for what he wants to say.

“Wasn’t much of a conversation,” Wheeljack mutters back.

Starscream looks at him to find his optics still determinedly looking over the garden.

“That’s true,” Starscream doesn’t want the high ground, for once in all his life he doesn’t want all the power and he knows that’s exactly what’s happened. The power was his to make or break them. It’s terrifying.

“You want to talk about that?” Wheeljack shuffles to turn to Starscream, still leaning against the railing with one hand, the other on his hip.

“I do,” Starscream nods, and takes a chance placing a hand over Wheeljack’s, “I wanted to say… I’m sorry.”

Wheeljack doesn’t respond but he doesn’t pull away either so Starscream pushes on, “I don’t know what I want before you ask. I had no plan then and I have no plan now. What you said… It makes me happy to know that. This is… This isn’t coming outright.”

Starscream shutters his optics and puts a hand to his head, frustrated and aching and scared. His hand is tugged away gently and he looks to find Wheeljack even closer to him, making his vents stall.

“Say what you want to say,” Wheeljack tells him, his hand holding Starscream’s.

Starscream laughs bitterly even as some piece of hope comes back to his spark, “Isn’t that what I always do? I just say what I want to say and I mess things up. You made me stop thinking. What you said made me so unreasonably happy, I didn't know what to do with myself. I didn’t know what to do. I had no plan. You made me forget everything you damned slagger. I didn’t even know what I was feeling. I just knew I wanted to be close to you. There is one thing I’ve figured out-”

His rambling is cut short before he even registers he’s rambling by a pair of lips on his and he blinks, taking a moment to understand that Wheeljack is kissing him. Then, just like that, the kiss is broken with Wheeljack smirking at him, his scars twist up with his lips. The sight makes Starscream’s spark throb.

“You figured out…?” Wheeljack continues for him.

“I love you,” Starscream whispers and a clatter erupts from off to the side.

They both turned to see Windblade looking between them, a pile of datapads scattered at her feet.

“Oh,” Windblade mumbles before hurriedly picking up the pads and making a quick retreat.

“She probably thought I was going to kill you,” Starscream mutters, “Didn’t she?”

“You almost did,” Wheeljack pulls him back.

“What?” Starscream cups Wheeljack’s face, concern written on his face.

“From a broken spark,” Wheeljack smiles and Starscream groans at the joke.

“That is so-”

Starscream wants to tear into him verbally for that but they’re kissing again, so, it doesn’t really matter.


End file.
